


Courtyard of Truths

by RainySpringMorning



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Pre-Serana, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6099955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainySpringMorning/pseuds/RainySpringMorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Serana's dialogue regarding the courtyard her mother was so fond of, and that her father hated so much.</p><p>Disclaimer: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim and all associated characters and settings belong to Bethesda Game Studios.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courtyard of Truths

“You spend far too much time out here, Valerica,” Harkon complained with his usual air of distaste, following his wife into the courtyard. “The smell of these flowers is… disagreeable.”

“You disappoint me, darling,” Valerica answered with mock sweetness. “Do I complain of your collection of werewolf skins or your lack of taste in the drawing room?” She set her deep gaze upon the cleanly shaven face of her husband and rested her palm over her stomach, protruding with a growing fetus. “My garden is very dear to me, as dear to me as you are.”

“How queer of you to compare me to wilted petals stinking of noxious perfume, ready to be crushed by your instruments.” Rolling his eyes heavenward, Harkon approached a pot inlaid with silver filigree, inspecting the speckled caps of the fungi poking up cheerfully. “What are these ugly things?”

“Fly Amantia. Good for treating burns,” Valerica said briskly without looking up from the packages of dried leaves she was rifling through. Harkon reached out and plucked one, root system and all, from its bed of sandy soil. Rolling the stem between his fingers, he wrinkled his nose as it secreted a yellowish slime.

“By Molag’s Breath, do you have no sense?” Valerica exclaimed irritably, snatching the mushroom from Harkon’s grip and holding it tenderly. “I’ve spent months trying to get these to grow, then you come along and ruin my efforts!”

“It’s a _mushroom,_ Valerica.”

“It’s a _mushroom_ that I was using to concoct a _potion_ so the sun wouldn’t be as harmful once we’re _vampires_ ,” she said angrily. She then staggered slightly, pressing a palm to her forehead. “Oh… I feel dizzy.”

“No wonder. Here you work day and night out here, uprooting weeds and planting your ridiculous flowers.” He waved a hand to give emphasis to his argument. “You are with child, dearest.”

“Hm.” The corners of her mouth turned up, and she looked up with a hint of demure. “And here I believed you cared nothing for your child.”

Harkon chuckled. “I may be an impudent fool most of the time, but I am not heartless. You and our child mean the world to me,” he lifted his hand and caressed the line of her jaw, smiling as he noticed her cheeks flush faintly. “Even when we are no longer mortal, you and her will be my world.”

“A girl, is it?” Valerica snorted. “All this time, I thought it would be a boy. Gives me more grief than you do.”

“She likes to have her own way. Now who else does that sound like?”

“Oh, hush!” Valerica laughed. “I know I’m stubborn, and restless. And many more things. I only hoped to pass on goodness to my child. She, or he, deserves no more than the perfection I wish upon them. Sometimes…” she began quietly. “I even wish we didn’t have to become vampires.”

“You would give up our worship of Bal?” Harkon asked in astonishment.

“I would sacrifice anything for my child…” Valerica stated gently. “But we have our ways, and they will become their ways. We will be powerful in our own right, and so will they. But it is not too soon to question our ways, and decide whether or not this is what we want for them.”

“An elf is born an elf whether he or she likes it or not. So are those in the rest of Tamriel.”

“But their futures are undecided,” Valerica added. “They get to choose. As how you chose to destroy that mushroom that would have gone towards protecting us,” she added with a hint of venom. Harkon bit his cheek to keep himself from smiling abashedly.

“Darling, you have all of the time in the world to grow a new one, and many more afterwards,” he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “I shall leave you to tend your garden.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he swept out of the courtyard, humming in an undertone.

Valerica looked down at the mushroom in her palm and sighed. “I’m sorry, little one,” she said mournfully, but as to whether or not she was speaking to the fungi, it was unclear.


End file.
